Maddison Winchester: Journal 2 {Supernatural}

11 Playthings: Part 1

January 6th - January 9th, 2007

It had been about a month since Ava went missing. During that month, Sam and I told Dean about the information we had found on my mom. Dean reacted as expected.

"How could you keep me out of this?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "Look, Dean—"

"It was my choice," I said, "I didn't even want Sam to know that I was trying to find her."

"But neither of you thought to tell me about this?" Dean began pacing.

"I just wasn't sure what I wanted. I didn't want to feel like I had to meet her if I didn't want to," I said.

"You thought that I would make you feel like that?" Dean asked, looking hurt.

I shook my head. "No..." I put my head back and groaned. "I honestly don't know how I feel about the whole situation. I'm just really confused." I looked at Dean, tears forming. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Dean sat down on the bed next to me. "Maddi, it's fine. Whatever you decide. It's totally up to you, and we'll just be there to back you up. All right?"

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In addition to that, we had not stopped looking for Ava. Sam was convinced that something terrible happened to her and that she needed our help. We had been staying at the same motel for almost the whole month. Sam had plastered the place with any information on Ava. It was basically a giant road map leading to nowhere.

"Yeah." (...) "Okay." (...) "Thanks, Ellen." Sam hung up his phone.

"What'd she have to say?" Dean asked after he closed the door with drinks in his hands.

"Oh, she's got nothing." Sam shrugged. "Me, I've been checking every database I can think of... federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava. She just..." He shook his head. "Into thin air, ya know?"

"Huh." Dean handed Sam a coffee and me a peach tea.

"What about you?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, same as before. Sorry, man."

"Ellen did have one thing," Sam said.

"Hmm?" Dean asked.

"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past three weeks," Sam said.

"Yeah?" Dean furrowed his brow. "What's that have to do with Ava?"

Sam shrugged. "It's a job. I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago, a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty. Which isn't exactly normal, ya know? Look, I don't know, Dean, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

"You did?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "You seem surprised."

"Well yeah, it's just, ya know. Not the, uh, patented Sam Winchester way, is it," Dean said.

Sam furrowed his brow. "What way is that?"

Dean shrugged. "I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, ya know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and—"

Sam gave him a look.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I'll shut up now."

Sam shook his head. "Look. I'm the one who told her to go back home. Now her fiancé's dead, and some demon has taken her off to god knows where. Ya know? But we've been looking for a month now, and we've got nothing. So, I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can."